


pincode to happiness (switching to manual)

by suhmayzooka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Gen, Not Canon Compliant, because freddie in my world is younger than roxanne, this is mainly freddie and albus centric the other characters are minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27034045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suhmayzooka/pseuds/suhmayzooka
Summary: Freddie envies Albus.
Relationships: Albus Severus Potter & Fred Weasley II, Fred Weasley II & Louis Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	pincode to happiness (switching to manual)

**Author's Note:**

> i sat down to write a 100 word drabble. idk what happened.
> 
> this is the first installment in a series of fics centered around my interpretation of the next gen characters. i've been enthralled with these characters ever since i was young, and to me they're solid with their own stories and personalities. so i've decided to capture them in words. like sketches, almost. i love these characters and want to share them as i imagine them.
> 
> title comes from imogen heap's 'me, the machine.' it has nothing to do with the story. i just thought it was cool.
> 
> freddie is a second year and albus is a third year. like the fics in this series to be posted in the future, this isn't strictly cursed child compliant, so if you haven't read cc and/or don't want to acknowledge it, just know albus is getting bullied.
> 
> also.....i just realized that fred is technically supposed to be older than roxanne according to the family tree but you know what? canon doesn't exist. molly and lucy are twins in this universe too, what's jkr gonna do to stop me? she controls nothing. my city now.

Freddie envies Albus. 

Albus Severus Potter has the honor of three war heroes as his namesake. More than that—any mention of his cousin recalls at least one of three greatest sorcerers of the past century. _Albus? Albus Dumbledore—oh, no, Albus_ Potter _. Son of the chosen one,_ and all that.

The three have cemented themselves into history, their legacies almost wizard legend. When people think of Albus, Severus, or Potter, their minds conjure the heroes in books, whisper their names in awe, reality not so separate from myth, at least in their minds.

Fred Weasley, the first one, doesn’t live in people’s minds the way Albus, Severus, or Potter do. Magicfolk don’t pass on the tales of the courageous joke shop owner the way they regale with stories of Harry Potter and his mentors. The most recognition Fred Weasley receives in their textbook is a footnote in the chapter on the Order of the Phoenix, or Dumbledore’s Army; his touch is in every corner of his shop, and a large portrait of him laughs eternally for all patrons to see and admire.

If people speak of Fred Weasley, the first, they do so because he somehow touched them personally. Their image of Fred Weasley, the vibrant, charming, teasing man that he was, is based in reality rather than stories—they were charmed, teased, burned by him. 

Albus has the luxury of hating his namesakes because he can read all about their flaws, or ask any wizard over thirty about them. When Freddie meets someone who knew his father, like Headmistress McGonagall or Puddlemere United’s Oliver Wood, he knows they’re judging him based on a man they had the pleasure (and stress, in McGonagall’s case) of living with. He doesn’t miss the way they look at him, with his dark skin and hair unlike his uncle’s, trying to find _any_ semblance of the man they loved. He swears McGonagall kept a strict watch on him when he first entered Hogwarts, only to back off when she realized he was one of the shiest, quietest students in his year.

Albus, Severus, and Potter all have legacies for anyone to see. Fred exists in fleeting memories of a select few who do anything they can to hold on, leaving Freddie to piece together his own understanding of himself and his uncle from all the stories his father refuses to tell him. 

* * *

From the Hufflepuff table, Freddie watches Albus Severus Potter storm into the Great Hall one morning, head hanging and face stony. He takes his seat beside Scorpius Malfoy, the only non-Potter/Weasley he’ll talk to, and little Hugo, who catches Freddie’s gaze and shrugs.

 _Typical Albus angst, then_.

His own companion, Louis, follows his line of sight and sighs, nonchalant. It’s as much annoyance as his polite cousin will allow himself to display, so Freddie accepts it as commiseration.

“Dominique told me he got in a fight with James,” he supplies. “She says James has been sulking nonstop since last night.”

“Roxanne hasn’t told me any of this,” says Freddie, picking at his breakfast. His appetite disappeared with Albus’s entrance. 

“It was all very recent, I think. I’m pretty sure one of James’s friends was bullying him and Scorpius again—typical things, I suppose.”

“Probably.”

“Can you help me with Charms?” asks Louis, setting his fork down. “Just read over my essay.”

“Sure—”

His Gryffindor family (sans Molly, who’s probably in the library with Lucy) choose that moment to enter the Great Hall—James in the lead, Rose and Dominique trailing behind. Lily and Rose makes their way over to the Slytherin table to greet Hugo, and Freddie stands to greet Roxanne.

“Freddie!”

She’s more excited than usual to see him. He doesn’t mind—other boys may tease him, but his older sister is his favorite person in the world, and if the sight of him makes her smile like that, he won’t complain. 

“Roxie!”

Behind him, Dominique ruffles Louis’s hair, and he swats her hand away. He’d spent at least fifteen minutes that morning combing it, much to a hungry Freddie’s chagrin, and seeing Dominique mess up his work fills him with schadenfreude. 

“Hey, Freddie.” Roxanne’s not focused entirely on him, though, her eyebrows furrowed as she scans the Hufflepuff table. “Where’s Jenkins?”

“Who?”

“Karl Jenkins. My year.”

“Oh. I don’t know.”

“He’s on his way,” says Louis, who’s successfully shoved Dominique off him. She’s snatched a bit of his toast and chews it with mirth.

“Good. Thanks, Louis.”

Roxanne and Dominique leave for the Gryffindor table. Freddie takes Louis’s Charms essay as Louis continues eating, occasionally piping up to ask for feedback. There’s movement in the corner of his vision, and Louis quietly announces that Karl Jenkins has arrived. Freddie looks up; Karl has sat down in front of him and Louis, and over his shoulder, Freddie can see Albus glare from the Slytherin table. Louis nods at their upperclassman in greeting, which seems to annoy Albus more, judging by his sour frown in Louis’s direction. Freddie decides to go back to ignoring him. Whatever went down behind him and Karl is none of his business.

His other cousins don’t seem to share his belief in staying out of Albus’s social life, however. There’s a flurry of movement behind him and he hears Louis sigh. The two exchange exasperated looks before raising their heads to see James, Dominique, and Roxanne looming behind Karl Jenkins. His cousins at the Slytherin table are sitting upright, too, watching the scene intently. Albus appears bemused. Even Scorpius has stopped giving Rose lovelorn glances to look at the small gathering at the Hufflepuff table.

“What do you want?” Karl finally speaks, eyes darting between James and Roxanne. 

“What do _you_ want?” James spits back. “Yann’s told me that you spilled Al’s potion? On purpose? What’s wrong with you?”

“It wasn’t on _purpose_ —” Karl snarls, “and I cleaned it up afterwards. What’s _your_ problem?”

He’s directed the last part towards Roxanne and Dominique. Freddie feels a surge of defensiveness, but Roxanne’s fierce enough to fight back without her little brother’s help.

“Just leave us alone,” she says, voice even. “You, Yann, Polly, you’re all so annoying.”

Karl rolls his eyes. Freddie notices Louis reach for his own wand, and Freddie places his hand on top of Louis’s to stop him. Getting in the way of the James-Roxanne-Dominique trio never ends well, even for their siblings. 

“It’s not worth the energy,” says Dominique to James, whose temple is beginning to show veins. “Just leave it alone. You,” she adds, turning to Karl, “stop bothering Al and the rest of us. Okay?”

Karl grunts out what could be a “fine,” which seems to appease the Gryffindors. They return to their table, and Karl, apparently uninterested in finishing his breakfast, stalks towards the door.

“I hope Albus is alright,” Louis says. “He seems to be doing worse…no one’s been able to talk to him lately, not even Hugo—oh, no, your sister’s up to something.”

 _As if that wasn’t obvious_ , Freddie thinks, and before he can begin to follow Louis’s gaze, he hears a loud shriek and an eruption of laughter.

Karl Jenkins never made it to the door. Instead, he’s clutching his head as long leafy vines sprout out, curling past his shoulders. Roxanne’s doubled over laughing at the Gryffindor table, while James and Dominique appraisingly clap her on the back. 

“And she was just made a Beater,” says Louis, his voice edged with irritation. “Think McGonagall will kick her off the team?”

“I hope so,” Freddie replies. “One less Weasley for you to worry about on the pitch.”

This earns him a small smile from Louis. He hears Roxanne cast the countercharm, and a newly-de-vined Karl storms out of the Great Hall. 

He glances back at the Slytherin table. Scorpius and Rose are equally mortified, which looks especially comical next to the laughter of Lily and Hugo.

Albus is grinning past Freddie, no doubt at the pranksters at the Gryffindor table behind him. Next to Freddie, Louis is comparing their Charms essays, his plate lying forgotten between them. 

* * *

When Freddie sees Albus next, they’re in the library. Scorpius Malfoy is exploring the books lined on the shelves, and Albus is hunched over a pile of books and parchment. Ink is smeared across his cheek. There’s one empty seat at the table for studying—directly across from Albus. The other students have given the Slytherin a wide berth. 

Freddie sighs, shifting his bag on his shoulder. Normally, he and Louis would spend this time studying together, being in the same classes, but Louis was using this period to beg Professor Longbottom for an opportunity to improve his borderline-failing Herbology grade. Casting a furtive look at Albus, Freddie sits down.

They’re quiet for a few minutes before Albus whispers, breaking the silence between them.

“I’m sorry.”

“About what?” Freddie asks, eyes glued to his work.

There’s another moment of silence before Albus responds. “That Karl Jenkins thing this morning. It…it’s me he had an issue with. I never asked James or Roxanne to jinx him in front of everybody.”

Freddie lifts his head so he can read his cousin’s expression. Albus has never apologized for something out of his control. Albus hasn’t really apologized to him before, if he’s being honest, but they don’t really interact all that much. Even at family gatherings, they tend to keep among their closest relatives rather than aimlessly mingle with the entire Weasley clan.

“It’s alright,” Freddie says once Albus’s words register. “I understand how you feel. Sometimes I wish Roxie would handle things more…”

“Calmly?”

“ _Calmly_ is one way of putting it,” Freddie sighs. “Really, any way that doesn’t involve pranking someone would be good. Dad loves it about her, though.”

“My Dad practically kisses the floor James walks on,” Albus grouses. “James crashed his broom into our roof last summer, and all Dad did was scold him once. I _look_ at him the wrong way and Dad’s breathing down my neck.”

“Louis says the same thing. That Uncle Bill lets Dominique get away with anything.”

“I think Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur let all three of them get away with anything. There’s not much for them to _get away_ with, though. Victoire and Louis are tame. Dom’s the only one they have to worry about, and she’s doing fine.”

Freddie grins. “Out of the three of them? Dom, Roxie, and James? Dom’s the one to watch out for.”

“Really?”

“Based on what Louis tells me.”

Albus lowers his voice. “I know you and Louis are best friends, or something, but come on, Freddie. Louis is so prim and proper he probably would think the fact we’re talking in a library is rebellious.”

“You may be right,” Freddie agrees. “Although, you’d be surprised—Louis can be trouble when he wants to be. Don’t let his manners fool you.”

“I won’t, now that you’ve told me,” says Albus, returning Freddie’s smile. “Scorpius is the same way.”

The two of them glance to the other end of the library, where Scorpius has paused his journey to stand against the shelves, nose-deep in a rather thick volume. 

“He’s the biggest geek I know,” says Albus.

Scorpius’s glasses slip off his nose and clatter to the floor. Albus cringes. 

“I believe you,” says Freddie.

Albus bites his bottom lip; Freddie knows him and the rest of his cousins well enough to recognize the act of suppressing laughter. 

“What class is that for?” Albus asks, jutting his chin at Freddie’s books. 

“Herbology,” he replies. “Louis is actually talking to Professor Longbottom about the class right now; he’s terrified of failing. The material is harder than we thought it’d be…and, er, we spent last night worried more about our Potions homework.”

“I hated second-year Potions,” Albus says. 

“Is third year any better?”

“Not really. But I think I’m getting a bit better.” Albus set his quill down. “What plants are you studying now?”

Freddie glances at his book. “L-leaping toadstools.”

“I remember those.” Albus looks oddly bashful now, rubbing the sleeve of his robes up and down and avoiding eye contact with Freddie. “If you want…er, maybe you should ask a Prefect—yeah, they would probably be better. But…erm…Herbology is my best subject…I’m not exactly _great_ at it, but I remember enough about leaping toadstools, and—”

“Thank you,” says Freddie earnestly. “I would really appreciate your help. Really.”

Albus looks surprised, and Freddie realizes with a grimace that this is probably the first time in a while that he wasn’t turned away. 

In hushed tones, Albus calmly explains how to care for leaping toadstools, how to identify their spores, and which potions they were used in. Freddie finds himself nodding along, listening intently and taking notes. By the end of Albus’s explanation, Freddie has gained a better understanding of his coursework, and he politely asks Albus to help him memorize the steps needed to make a Sleeping Draught (Albus obliges with a sheepish nod, but Freddie notices the way his mouth curls into a proud smile). 

“You know what you’re talking about,” says Freddie once Albus finishes. “You’re pretty smart, Albus.”

“I’m not, really.”

“You are. Ignore what the other students say; they’re idiots.”

Albus returns to his own homework. 

Silence, then—

“People compare me to my father, too,” says Freddie.

Albus’s jaw hardens. _Ah_ , thinks Freddie. _I caught you_.

“I think they expect me to be a prankster,” he continues. “Like Dad. And Uncle Fred. They’re shocked to meet me and find I’m just another quiet Hufflepuff. I think Roxanne got all the Weasley genes.”

“She fits in better than either of us do,” Albus whispers.

Freddie flinches.

“No—no, you fit in, Freddie— _damn_ , why did I say that—”

“Don’t apologize,” says Freddie. “You’re not wrong. I feel out of place sometimes. There’s Roxanne, and James and Dominique, and then Lily and Hugo are close; Molly and Lucy have each other—”

“Louis?”

“I guess. But he has his own things going on, too. We all do, actually.”

There’s no response. Freddie turns a page, studying the diagrammed toadstools.

“I think,” Freddie continues, “that our family is big enough for us. If we don’t look like we fit in then we’ll make our way in. They all love us. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course,” says Albus, but in Freddie’s opinion he doesn’t sound so sure.

Freddie isn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t sure where he was going if he’s being honest. What does he expect from Albus? Kinship? Kinship from his Slytherin cousin, his Slytherin cousin who seems to think everyone has a personal vendetta against him?

Freddie’s no longer focused on leaping toadstools. His mind is elsewhere, four years ago, before either he or Albus had begun class at Hogwarts; _all the Weasleys at the Burrow, celebrating the last chance to meet together in summer before school began. James, Roxanne, and Dominique racing each other on their brooms; Molly and Lucy engaged in polite conversation with Aunt Hermione; Lily and Hugo pestering Victoire, who’s doing her best to hold Teddy’s hand without her relatives knowing. Louis letting their grandparents fuss over his new haircut, while Aunt Fleur coos over her son to Aunt Ginny. Freddie’s making his way to the kitchen, where he comes face to face with Albus. He’s perched on a spindly wooden chair, the one with a leg shorter than the other three, nibbling away at one of their grandmother’s sweets. They make eye contact, not as a Weasley and a Potter but as two cousins, apparently brought to the sanctuary of Molly Weasley Sr.’s kitchen to escape the whirlwind of Weasley activity outside. In that moment, Albus isn’t Harry Potter’s lookalike middle son; Freddie isn’t an inferior copy of his uncle. Albus offers Freddie a piece of his snack, and Freddie accepts graciously. Silence is comfortable between them_.

There are no sweets shared between them now, but when Freddie lifts his eyes from his book to meet Albus’s across the table, he thinks he feels the same. Maybe Albus doesn’t remember sharing sweets with his awkward younger cousin, but Freddie remembers the way they sat together, a quiet acknowledgement between the two of them. _Kinship_ , he thinks distantly.

That’s what it is. They can carve their own identities side by side, Albus can identify himself beyond his father’s name, and Freddie can break away from his uncle’s ghost. He’s Freddie, not Fred, and Albus is—well, Albus is whatever he wants to be, and Freddie doesn’t fault him either way.

* * *

Next week, when they pass each other on the stairs, Albus leaving the Charms class Freddie’s hurrying to, they’ll nod; Freddie’s heart will leap and his stomach will twist with what he feels is that _kinship_ , and as he watches the dark curls on the back of Albus’s head retreat, he’ll imagine that Albus feels the same way.

_Freddie-not-Fred. Albus-not-Albus-not-Severus-not-Potter. Both Weasleys._

It's a start.

**Author's Note:**

> this took a surprising amount out of me! right now i'm decently satisfied but who knows, maybe in the future i'll rewrite this or scrap it entirely. but it feels good to have something put out into the world, at least for now. 
> 
> my writing tumblr is suhmayzooka-creates.tumblr.com ! i'll be posting my ideas and updates there. please feel free to talk to me!!  
> i'm on twitter too @suhmayzooka


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